


The Omnic Rights Fundraiser Incident

by AughtPunk



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: And the real reason we're all here tonight, F/F, Golden Days of Overwatch, Hardcore Nudity, I love little kid Fareeha and Brigitte, Jesse Angela Brigitte and Fareeha are siblings, Jesse is the best and worst babysitter, Mercy Smooches and Omnic and Things Go Wrong, Mercy is DTF, Mercy is a BAMF, No Smut, Pre-Recall, THAT BEING SAID, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22932544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AughtPunk/pseuds/AughtPunk
Summary: After being caught in a rather embarrassing position Jesse decides to cheer D.Va up with a story about Mercy. A story that involves sibling bonding, easing tensions between humanity and omnics, and full-frontal nudity.
Relationships: Angela "Mercy" Ziegler & Hana "D.Va" Song, Angela "Mercy" Ziegler/Original Female Character(s), Background Somva, Brigitte Lindholm & Jesse McCree, Brigitte Lindhom & Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Fareeha "Pharah" Amari & Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Fareeha "Pharah" Amari & Jesse McCree, Fareeha "Pharah" Amari & Jesse McCree & Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Fareeha "Pharah" Amari/Brigitte Lindholm, Jesse McCree & Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Jesse McCree & Hana "D.Va" Song, Squint and you'll miss it McHanzo
Comments: 14
Kudos: 72





	The Omnic Rights Fundraiser Incident

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Let Mercy Say Fuck Zine

The mission had gone well, which was the exact line McCree used to begin his report. He picked up his tablet as soon as the Orca left the ground, eager to finish the most boring part of being a hero as soon as he could. He went on to note how they snuck into the fancy charity ball Talon sweetheart Maximilien was throwing without being detected and managed to get in and out without a single gunshot fired. Jesse paused, wondering if he should include breaking that one guard’s arm but decided against it. Not like someone could trace a broken arm back to Overwatch, right? Right? He’d have to ask Mercy later.

Jesse let his dramatic side show as he described the mission in detail. How they snuck past the guards, their journey into Maximilian's private office, finding the hidden door to Maximilian's actual office, and then slipping out with a copy of some very important documents with the omnic none the wiser. Everything was going fine right up to when he reached the part where he had to describe how they distracted Sombra long enough to get said information without her noticing. That had been Hana’s job. In retrospect, as the team leader he really should have talked about what Hana had in mind before the mission started.

Hana herself was currently strapped into one of the seats against the wall and, from the expression on her face, was probably trying to will herself to die. She hadn’t changed out of the sparkling pink dress she wore on the mission, or removed any of her makeup. Nor had she removed the very obvious purple lipstick marks that trailed down her neck to her shoulders before vanishing under the dress’ neckline. There was also the matter of her ruffled hair, her slouched stockings, and the bright red hue that always came with being caught in the act. McCree was just thankful it was Zenyatta who found them and not him. 

That being said he did almost die from secondhand embarrassment listening to Zenyatta trying to make Hana feel better by talking about wonderful expressing one’s emotions physically was. It was like getting The Talk from the new age section of a bookstore. Jesse gave spinning Hana’s makeout session into a tale of heroics one last time before giving up. He could get drunk and think of a wild story to tell later. Right now he had to go do his duty as the team leader and help Hana out of that funk.

Jesse tossed his beaten-up tablet aside and strolled up to Hana, taking the empty seat next to her’s. As soon as he sat down Hana hid her face in her hands, doing her best to vanish without the aid of technology. Right. Now’s the time to turn on that cowboy charm and lighten the mood by saying just the right thing to cheer her up.

“Don’t worry, you ain’t the first agent to complete a mission by getting their hands dirty.”

Hana let out a deep, sorrowful groan and sank further into her seat. He had said the wrong thing.

“Is that what they called it in Blackwatch?”

Angela walked up to the pair and smiled before slipping into the empty seat on Hana’s other side. Her wings were off, but she was still in what Jesse liked to call her battle doctor suit. She always managed to walk a thin line between looking caring and dangerous wearing it in combat. Shame she never went with Reinhardt’s idea of going with a more traditional Valkyrie look. Probably for the best, Genji back then could barely function when Angela wore the most unrevealing scrubs possible. He would have walked right off a cliff if she showed up wearing anything vaguely revealing. 

“Now now,” Jesse replied, “I know there were a bunch of rumors about us having honeypot missions but that was a load of horse apples. Not that flirtin’ with the right fellah didn’t save my bacon a few times.”

Angela leaned in closer to Hana and whispered, “He says that, but there was this one time he came back from a mission with bite marks on his inner-thighs.”

Hana didn’t lift her head up but she did let out a deep snort. 

Jesse pointed at Angela. “That had nothin’ to do with the mission.”

“Yet you begged me not to put it on your official medical report.”

“What a man does after being fired from his undercover waiter job is his own damn business.” 

“By my understanding your received your injuries  _ during  _ your undercover waiter mission in Rialto _.  _ I should know, you wouldn’t stop telling me about this dark, mysterious stranger in a pinstripe suit the  _ entire time _ I was patching you up!” Angela playfully stuck out her tongue, but it was too late. As unofficial siblings Jesse was honorbound to fight fire with fire. So he narrowed his eyes in a perfect cowboy fashion and grinned.

“You’re one to talk, considerin’ Omnic Rights Fundraiser incident.” 

A low blow, but Jesse’s remark hit the bullseye. He could see the life drain out of Angela’s face and fire spark in her eyes from the mere mention of the old memory. She parted her lips, but whatever ammo she was going to fire back vanished as Hana finally lifted up her head out of her hands.

“The what incident?” 

Jesse’s grin turned into a full toothy smile. “Let’s just say you’re a single link in a long, long chain when it comes to getting the job done anyway you can.”

Angela narrowed her eyes. For a non-cowboy she had a real good glare. “You wouldn’t  _ dare _ .”

“Hey! You were airing out my dirty laundry! It’s only fair that your britches get a turn in the wind.”

“Yes!” Hana’s smile finally returned. A weak smile, but Jesse could tell the dam was starting to break. “Any stories that involve the word incident in the title have to be a great story!”

Jesse looked over at Angela, who made a face but didn’t try to stop him. Maybe she caught on to Hana’s slow climb out of the pit of embarrassment too. That was all the permission he needed to forge ahead. “And what a tale it is! This would have been fifteen, no, seventeen years ago. Yes, seventeen, because Ana kept teasing me about not being old enough to drink yet. Overwatch was only a few years old and Jack decided a good way to patch things up with the omnics was to hold a big old fundraiser in support of omnic rights. A damn fine cause if I do say so myself. Of course back then I was too angry to really care. See me and Gabe had a spat right before about if my hat counted as proper evening wear or not. Jack sided with him, he always did, so I had to go without. Not only was I suffering the indignity of being without old Bessie, but Gabe decided to to punish me for insubordination by changing the seating arrangements and putting me at--"

***

The kids’ table. 

Gabe put Jesse at the Goddamn kids table. 

His excuse was that he wanted Jesse to be able to keep a close eye on Fareeha and Brigitte, but Jesse knew that was just a cover. This was one hundred percent his boss’s way of punishing him for talking back. He might have gotten away with it if Jesse’s nameplate hadn’t been written in the same colorful font like the rest of the kids. They even made one of the S’s backwards to really rub it in. Well the joke was on Gabe! Sure he might be stuck sitting in a chair half his size, but at least his table had  _ crayons _ !

“What are you drawing?” Fareeha said in that same annoying way that all teenagers spoke. Did Jesse sound like that at her age? Nah, there’s no way. He was totally mature back then.

Jesse held up his drawing, “A rocket horse surfboarding down a volcano while battling a dragon with a double-neck guitars.” 

(“Gabe had that picture hung up in his office for years.” Interjected Angela from the present.

“Wait, did the dragon have the guitar, or the horse?”

“They both did. Now let a man speak, will ya?”)

Fareeha did her best to not look impressed by Jesse’s amazingly cool drawing, but he could see that spark in her eyes. He was sure once they were away from the boring adults her normal non-annoyed teenage self would come out. “That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid.” Jesse said as he turned the picture to Brigitte, “What do you think? Best horse drawing ever, right?”

Brigitte didn’t say anything. She hadn’t spoken a word since they arrived at the fancy-smancy hotel’s ballroom not even an hour ago. Instead she just sat and stared at Jesse with wide, frightened eyes. 

“Uh, you okay there, Kitten?”

“She doesn’t recognize you without your hat and shaved, dork.” Fareeha said as she worked on her own drawing of a flying jet-robot-thingy. 

“What? No! Come on Brigitte, it’s me! Jesse! Your favorite big brother!”

Brigitte responded by sinking low in enough in her seat to vanish behind the flower-filled centerpiece. 

“I got this.” Fareeha grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and quickly sketched out a rough drawing of a cowboy hat. With the same level of skill Jesse had seen time and time again in Ana she folded and tore at the edges until only the hat remained. Finally she held up the hat over Jesse’s head, making him a proper cowboy once more. 

Brigitte jumped up in her seat and let out a childish giggle. “Jesse! Jesse Jesse Jesse!”

“See?” Fareeha said.

“All the more reason Gabe should have let me worn my damn hat.”

“Perhaps Reyes was correct in forcing you to go without for an evening?” 

Jesse leaned back in his chair enough to greet Angela as she approached the table. Unlike him, she looked natural at the gala with her slinky white dress and a drink in each hand. He put on his most charming simple cowboy smile and said, “Please tell me one of those drinks is for me, sugar.” 

“You can get your own drink, Jesse.”

Fareeha let out a snort. “He can’t. The bartender totally thinks he’s my age.”

“You don’t have to rub it in, sis.”

“They said you have to ask your Dads for permission first!” 

Brigitte let out a dramatic gasp, “Jesse has Dads?”

Angela nodded, “Mmhmm, two Dads and a Mommy.”

“I have a Mommy, a Daddy and a Reinhardt!” Brigitte clenched her fists and raised them high in the air “REINHARDT!”

“REINHARDT!” Bellowed Reinhardt from the other side of the ballroom in return.

Angela laughed and placed one of her drinks down in front of Jesse. “Fine. You can have one. But only because men keep buying me drinks and I’ve already given Jack my previous drinks. Also, Jack is drunk.”

“Ain’t he some super secret government superman thing that makes it impossible for him to get wasted?” Jesse said as he picked up the umbrella laden drink and took a sip. Passionfruit, nice.

“A lot of men have been buying me drinks. A. Lot.”

“Can I have a drink?” Fareeha asked, her voice instantly switching to good-girl-who-has-done-nothing-wrong-her-whole-life mode. 

“Your Mom would literally kill me.” Jesse said, “There’s no way that I, a full grown adult, would ever allow a teenager to go down the dark path known as drinking before the legal age.”

“Weren’t you running a gang at Fareeha’s age?” 

“A gang of upstanding citizens who didn’t drink, didn’t do drugs, and we certainly never try to rob an IHOP on mother’s day only to get seated at someone’s big old family reunion breakfast party and got free pancakes instead.” 

Angela raised an eyebrow. “Never?”

“Never! And it sure as hell didn’t happen three more times after that.”

“Excuse me, are you Dr. Ziegler?”

Jesse had half a mind to tell Angela’s newest hanger-on to buzz off but stopped when he saw that it wasn’t another creepy man, but an omnic. A rather upscale looking one too by his guess, curved like an expensive sports car, draped in a silk sky-blue dress with solar panels made to look like a hair bun. Must be one of the important omnic guests. She too had a drink in each hand. He glanced over at Angela to see if she needed backup. 

Angela looked like a deer about to get run over by cupid’s semi-trailer truck.

(“I did not.” Said present Angela.

“Sweetheart, you were drooling."

I was not!”)

“I am.” Angela said, wiping a bit of drool off her lips, “I’m sorry, you are-?”

“Dr. Caroline Marron. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Would you like one of these drinks? The waiters keep panicking and handing them to me, and I think the large man who keeps shouting his own name has had enough as is.”

“Dr. Marron!” Angela’s eyes lit up, not at all paying attention to Jesse reaching over to take the drinks out of the omnic’s hands. “I’ve read your papers on the use of nanomachines on carbon-based muscle replacement graphs! Your theories on mimicking cellular structure through pre-programmed automations are absolutely fascinating!” 

A spark of light deep behind the omnic’s eyes flickered, the words catching her off guard. “You have?”

“Oh yes! I haven’t been able to have a chance to read your latest proposal on DNA altered synthetic skin grafts, but it’s next on my to-read list. I’ve been waiting for a nice quiet evening where I can snuggle up with a nice cup of coco and really take the time to enjoy your paper.”

Dr. Marron shifted her head ever-so-slightly to look at Jesse. He gave a small nod to confirm that, yes, Angela does in fact read science papers for fun. She laughed and turned her attention fully back on Angela. “And here I was afraid I was going to bore you to death with my ravings over your own work.” 

“Oh?” Angela asked as she took a slight step forward. Jesse was pretty sure she was trying to do a smoldering gaze. Not that he could tell.

“Oh yes! I am a big fan of your work in the field of biotics which is silly for me to say, you’re the one who created them! I’m sorry, I’ve been a nervous wreck ever since Maxicat said you were going to be here tonight. And now I’m babbling. I had a whole speech prepared and now I can’t find any recordings of it in my memory at all!”

Fareeha mouthed the name Maxicat to Jesse. He shrugged.

Angela reached over and touched Dr. Marron’s arm. “Personally, I’m terrible at remembering what to say when the spotlight’s on. Something about the noise that rattles me up. Should we go someplace a bit more quiet to talk? I do have a private suite here. Your memory might work better without so many people around.”

(“Wow.” Said present Hana. “Damn that’s smooth.”

“I was a twenty year old with a doctorate and in charge of Overwatch’s medical staff.” Angela replied, “I didn’t have the time or energy to be coy.”)

There was that flicker again deep within Dr. Marron’s eyes, but she quickly recovered and took Angela’s offered arm. “A sound hypothesis, Dr. Ziegler. Let us go test the theory in practice.” 

“Angela, please Dr. Marron.”

“Caroline, if you don’t mind.” 

Angela placed her remaining drink in front of Jesse and walked off arm-in-arm with the omnic. They were already deep in a conversation that went way over Jesse’s head by the time they lost themselves within the crowd. Jesse watched the two women walk away until he got a boney elbow in the ribs. 

“Psst.” Fareeha said, not whispering at all, “Is Angela gonna make out with an omnic?”

Jesse went to adjust his hat only to be reminded of its absence. “Can’t say for sure, but it does look like Cupid’s arrow struck true, doesn’t it?”

Fareeha let out a grumble of someone who was still on the fence if kissing was gross or not. Jesse didn’t mind at all. She was growing up too fast as it was, no need for her to go chasing after boys/girls/omnics/whatever anytime soon. He reached over for a clean sheet of paper and let the evening slip away thanks to some fine company and three of the weakest mixed drinks he’s ever experienced in his short life. He wondered if the drinks have been subpar or evening or the bartenders got a little more liberal with the mix-ins after they realized most of the alcohol was being rerouted to the Strike Commander. Jesse let the fourth drink sit untouched until he noticed that Fareeha’s eyes had wandered.

“No.” Said Jesse.

Fareeha pouted. “I didn’t even ask!”

“That’s why I’m stoppin’ you before you do.” Jesse pointed a crayon at his little sister. “You can’t have any.”

“I’m allowed to drink wine with dinner!”

“Stealing sips from Gabe’s glass when he’s too busy yelling at Jack doesn’t count as permission.”

Fareeha pointed an accusing crayon back. “All the boring adults are busy! They won’t know!” 

“You won’t like the taste.”

“Yes I will!”

“Oh yeah?” Jesse pushed the untouched drink near Fareeha, jostling the umbrella from its pineapple perch, “Try it.”

He felt a sense of pride as Fareeha first scanned the room just like he had taught her. She lifted the glass and eyed it suspiciously. There was no way she could tell if there was anything wrong ,but he was sure she only did it just because Gabe and Jack did the same when they drank too. Fareeha lifted the glass to her lips, took the smallest sip she could, and then spat it all back out. 

“Gross!” Fareeha pushed the drink as far away as she could. “You like that? Adults like that?!”

“Once you’re all grown up and have a refined pallet--”

Jesse’s words were cut off by a sudden and sharp sting against his temple. His hand was already halfway to his gun before he noticed the rubber band on the table. Uh oh. 

There was a high pitched beep in his ear as his communicator turned itself on and a familiar voice spoke in his ear. “McCree, why is my daughter drinking?” 

Jesse pressed a hand against his ear. “Now Miss Amari, I don’t know-”

There was second sharp sting between his eyes this time before the deadly rubber band hit the table. He tried again. “Fareeha’s a big-”

He shouldn’t have pushed his luck and he knew it. The third rubber band hit him smack dab in the eye, causing him to shout a cornucopia of impolite words in front of Brigitte. Luckily for Jesse she was too busy laughing at his pain to pick up any new vocab. The communicator clicked on again and he swore he could hear Ana smirk. “Fareeha is allowed to drink a small glass of wine with dinner, not mixed drinks at a party. Perhaps Angela needs to speak to both of you about responsible drinking.”

Another click from the communicator as Jack’s voice chimed in. “Whereiz Angie?” He slurred, “I need 'elp.”

“Help?” Jesse asked, not really paying attention to how Brigitte was now holding the mixed drink. 

Another click as Gabe’s voice kicked in mid-laugh. “Jack’s been cornered by three suitors trying to woo him all at once. Or trying to sell him something. Either way, I think he’s looking for a way out.”

Jesse scanned the room, but he couldn’t spot any of his bosses. Where the hell had Ana shot him from anyway? “Any reason you’re not lending him a hand, boss?”

“Jack loves being the center of attention. I thought he was enjoying himself." Gabe said, and even Jesse picked up the hiss behind his voice. There went his hopes that the two of them had made up before the party started. 

“I have been sending you non-verbal hand signals for assistance all night!” Jack replied.

“I assumed the big strong Strike Commander was trying to wave me off. Again.”

“Gabe’s a meanie.” Jack whimpered. “Ana, help.”

“Oh no. I refuse to enter this spat. Also, I am busy keeping an eye on our cowboy.”

Jesse sighed, “I don’t need a babysitter, Miss Amari. I got everything controlled over here at the kid’s table.”

“I see, so you are aware that Brigitte is drinking?”

Jesse’s eyes snapped over to Brigitte just in time to see the six-year-old take a large swig from the glass, spilling most of it on herself. Fueled by a panic only felt by babysitters and new parents Jesse lunged across the table and grabbed the drink from Brigitte’s hands. Her cheeks were puffed out giving Jesse the small hope that she hadn’t swallowed yet. He could feel the flower centerpiece crush under his weight as he looked the little girl in the eyes. 

“Spit. It. Out.”

Brigitte looked to Fareeha, who was giggling, and then back to Jesse with those huge adorable eyes. She was clearly balancing her favorites in her mind, and Jesse was thrilled to see that he won as Brigitte spat the alcohol out all over the table. “Yucky.”

Jesse tapped his communicator back on. “Little Kitten’s been saved, please stop your firin’ Miss Amari.”

“Good.” Ana replied, “And Reinhardt has gone to save Jack and wait, no, Reinhardt is hitting on him now. Perhaps we will need a distraction from the good doctor.”

“She’s uh,” Jesse sat back in his chair and brushed a few crushed flowers off his shirt. “Busy.”

“Busy?” Ana asked.

“Has her hands full.”

“Of?”

“Dr. Caroline Marron.” Jesse answered, hoping Angela wouldn’t kick his ass for telling on her.

Gabe cut through the conversation with his own string of curses. “Dr. Marron’s one of Maximilien’s close friends. If anyone had the dirt on him it would be her. I was planning on tailing her but I guess Angela beat me to it. I knew I should have briefed her beforehand, then she may have been prepared for any pillow talk..”

Jack’s voice came in, “Gabby we’re here to keep the omnics safe from bad guys, you meanie. Stop being all scary-dude.”

“I agree!” Shouted Reinhardt, and Jesse couldn’t tell if he was also on the communication line or just that close to Jack. “We are here to forge bonds in this time of peace! You should not be so suspicious of our new allies, Reyes!” 

Jesse missed Reyes’ response. It was probably something about how he didn’t trust Maximilien, that any friend of his was an enemy of them, and probably his usual spew of paranoid ramblings. His attention was caught by Fareeha, who had sat straight up with a distant look in her eyes. Something was wrong. He turned off the communicator and began to speak, but the second his boss was no longer ranting in his ear Jesse could hear it too. 

Gunshots.

Distant, faint, but getting closer.

“Get down!” 

Everything slowed down in that adrenaline-pumping sort of way. Jesse tipped the table onto its side, sending flowers and crayons across the ballroom floor. By the time he got his gun out Fareeha had already grabbed Brigitte and hid behind the table, shielding the younger girl with her body. Jesse made a mental note to take them both out for ice cream once everything was said and done. He turned to the door with his trusty peacekeeper at the ready, not even registering the panic from the crowd around him. 

Time slowed down in the Dead-eye way. 

With one eye screaming in pain and his finger on the trigger Jesse aimed at the doorway as it opened. He expected terrorists. Robbers. Kidnappers. Some assholes with too many guns and not enough sense. What he didn’t expect was an angel. 

Angela burst through the doorway looking for all the world like a marble statue given life. She was wrapped in flowing white sheets that trailed behind her as she jumped through the doors. A half-second later Jesse noticed that the sheets were the only thing Angela was wearing, unless you counted the gun in her hand. The crowds dived out of the way in slow-motion as Angela touched down onto the ballroom floor, the bright light from the hallway showering her in heavenly light. 

Right behind her came what Jesse would later learn was Dr. Marron. He didn’t recognize her at the time because her form had completely changed into what could best be described as a freaky-robot-spider out of his nightmares. Her arms and legs had extended and twisted around, letting her skitter through the open doorway just a little too fast for his liking. Dr. Marron’s mouth opened wide to reveal a charged laser cannon that was pointed straight at Angela. 

Time sped up as the Dead-eye began to lose its grip on things. 

Angela spun in place, throwing the white bed sheets onto the changed Dr. Marron. The omnic faltered, a which gave her all the time she needed. Naked as the day she was born Angela knelt down and pointed her gun straight at the omnic. Jesse held his breath as Angela aimed true and pulled the trigger--

***

“Shot her right in the mouth, causin’ that weird laser-cannon to explode! Damn impressive if I do say so myself! I had no idea she could aim that well! I was so surprised I didn’t even notice the weird hexagon-hip-tattoo until I rushed over to cover you up with the tablecloth.”

Angela, who had fully folded in on herself by that point, let out a muffled, “It’s the chemical compound structure for caffeine, Jesse."

“Huh. Well! Learn something new every day.”

Unlike Angela Hana had come out of her self-imposed shell. Her eyes shone with reverence as she looked over the embarrassed Angela. “You took down an enemy  _ naked _ ?”

“She sure did! Apparently Dr. Marron slipped a few things during their pillow-talk that your average doctor shouldn’t know about. Course all it took was one well-timed blackout for her to mysterious vanish from the building, leaving Maximilien there to deny everything and smooth things over. A bust, but it gave Gabe all the evidence he needed to get permission to keep tabs on good old Maxicat. All thanks to our dear Mercy!” 

“I will remember next time I have to set a bone, Jesse.” Angela said as she finally lifted her head up from her hands.

“Hey! Whatever happened to do no harm?”

“I am not allowed to cause harm. There is nothing about me forgetting to apply painkillers.”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Hana waved her hands in the space between Jesse and Angela. Whatever embarrassment had claimed her before was gone. Instead her eyes were wide and sparkling with happiness. “Hang on! Angela, why didn’t you mention you were such a good shot? You totally have to come down to the range and practice with me sometime! Also, that throwing the sheet on the bad guy thing? Amazing! Did you plan that? Or was that on the spur of the moment? Oh man, you are totally coming on my stream next week and we’re playing Time Cop 2 together! Or Point Blank. Duck Hunt?”

“I suppose. Although I was officially banned from playing Duck Hunt back in the old Overwatch days. You see, I had just finished working on Genji-”

Jesse leaned back in his seat as he let Angela take over the story telling for once. He lowered his brim and let himself drift off to the sound of a hero getting the praise she rightly deserved. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't heard, [I've been going through some hard times](https://aughtpunk.com/2019/11/24/in-which-i-am-very-bored-at-a-psych-ward/). Thank you everyone so much for your kudos and comments. They always help pick me up when things get dark. Really. Love you all.
> 
> If you enjoy my writing please check out my other fics or head to [my website](https://aughtpunk.com/want-to-help-out/) for information on my non-fic writing and how to help me out while I'm putting my life back together.
> 
> Be sure to tag me as @AughtPunk on [Twitter,](https://twitter.com/aughtpunk) [Tumblr,](http://aughtpunk.tumblr.com) or [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/AughtPunk) if you want to say hi, or ever make any fan content of my work. No need to ask permission, art and fic is always welcomed!


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